


Tangerine Dreams In The Summer Rain

by Narryfavoritejiall



Category: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Always tho, Daddy Issues, M/M, Mentions of drugs and alcohol, Peter's probs sixteen, Sugar Daddy, Tony Feels, Underage Sex, but not really tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-14
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2018-12-29 21:59:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12094311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Narryfavoritejiall/pseuds/Narryfavoritejiall
Summary: He dragged him in, with the soft looks and provocative caresses, that made him brake the law and promise the entire world to a minor.





	1. O N E

**Author's Note:**

> Woah woah, I'm not into the daddy stuff, but blame Lana. 
> 
> Sorry for the mistakes, again, English is not my first language:)
> 
> Enjoy!

 

_"Let's welcome the heat fellows, let's not make it a summer bummer, let's pour ourselves some cold lemonade and enjoy the best spot in Palm Springs—"_

 

The sun was hot over his covered shoulders and the glass with expensive liquor felt cool against his hand, the heavy invisible weight on his back that signaled stress was disappearing and any second thoughts were vanishing away like the vapor on the ground. The hesitation and averseness that swam inside his veins because of recent events and and the _acceptation_ of those events made his chest clench and the feeling of suffering aheart attach was becoming constant and his stomach twisted too, like the nausea when he drank to much cognac and  mimosas late at night under the blue, green and neon lights of Miami.

 

But, his mind went quiet and his hands shook when he stepped out of the crystal wide doors and welcomed the warm air and velvet pavement, the pool seemed appealing, just like the tanned arm hanging off the arm of the chair and the mess of brown curls, blowing slightly with the breeze and shinning gold under the sun. Tony stared — _And_ stared, seeming like a dream come true, laying there, calm and harmonious, wet,  _bare_ skin getting sunkissed and turning into the golden shade that the man loves to kiss late at night; with that unperturbed confidence and black glasses covering the soft brown eyes.

 

_"Come to Nevada next week if you're tired of the Springs, a chance to—"_

 

"You listen to the radio now?"

 

Tony smiled and took a sip from his drink, watching the boy resting in the beach cot jumped slightly and lifted his glasses, the strawberry drink on Peter's hand spilled a bit and frowned at the sun as he looked up and gave an easy smile.

 

"I wanna go to Las Vegas," The boy pointed at the radio, "They say there's is this cool hotel there and I'm kinda tired of the Springs,  _so—"_

 

"Don't believe everything they say in the radio," Tony shrugged, "I'll show the whole Nevada state myself. The summer is long, sweetheart. We've got time."

 

"You're taking me to Las Vegas?" Peter smiled widely.

 

"I'm taking  _you_ everywhere, boy," He opened his arms, "Just say  _where_."

 

The brown eyed boy rolled his eyes playfully, "I like this channel."

 

"I can see."

 

"There playing old songs too." 

 

" _And,_ you like them?" The man sat down where the boy's feet where resting by.

 

"Old is the new cool, Tony," Peter lowered his glasses again and shifted on the seat.

 

"It is," He nodded, lifting a hand and rubbing it unhurriedly in the other's leg, dragging it up and down, gazing wrongfully at the bathing suit sticking damply on the small hips.

 

"You should know." 

 

Tony looked up and rolled his eyes, he smiled, "Watch it, kid." 

 

"See? — _God—_ you even use that term, old man," The younger boy kicked his arm softly, "How was your business call?"

 

" _Fucking stressful,_ " He gulped all the liquid in his glass and adjusted his own sunglasses on his face, "And, totally unnecessary."

 

Peter nodded and sat down properly, "I was waiting for you to get in the pool, but you were taking to long and I was getting hot andd—" He smirked and leaned over, lifting a hand and moving to graze his fingers in the man's chest, "Get in with me?"

 

"Maybe. What do you got to offer?" The brown eyed man mumbled, "I think that I got more  _important_ things to do than get into a pool." 

 

"More important things to dothan me?" The boy lifted his eyebrows, "Than  _doing_ me."

 

Tony chuckled, "There's my boy." 

 

"C'mon," Peter got closer, the seat grinding under them, he licked the man's lip and kissed them tenderly once, "I've been waiting for you,  _daddy._ "

 

 -

 

 The first time he saw the boy, the first time his breath got stuck and his frown deepened when the cup of wine shook on his hand as Tony walked towards the boy that was secretly making pretty eyes to the bartender to serve him more drinks and green olives. He remembered watching the young face and slim body, the thin lips and thin eyebrows, the brown eyes that searched for he's gaze because  _he knew_ that Tony was looking at him since the party started. The dimmed lights shinned on his hair and shoulders and the man swore that his steps were becoming dumb and weak.

 

_"Mr. Stark is buying my drink?"_

 

And — _Yes,_ he did buy a lot of drink for them that night and he totally ignored that the kid was barely legal— If not,  _not_ legal at all, because before he got to the bar, he watched the boy flirt lazily and touching the man's arm serving the alcoholic drinks; finally convincing him to serve him a pink mimosa. He neglected the odd, ugly feeling of knowing that the kid wasn't about eighteen and that Peter was  _still_ reckless as ever, smiling sensually at him, he dragged him in with the soft looks and provocative caresses, that made him brake the law and promise the entire  ** _world_** to a minor.

 

The secret life, secret words and secret moments they lived since that day, felt like eternity and forever, like if it would never end and they would stay together without interruptions and excuses. Tony found himself in the peculiar position of being gone for someone, of willing to do  _anything_ and deliberate everything; and the constant, distant thoughts of  ** _'Age of Consent'_** and the the articles talking about it, that seldom appeared in the New York Times, in the last pages, but that made a hole in Tony's stomach when he read about the wrong actions and consequences.

 

The guilt and paranoia sometimes wanted to eat him alive, but it all was forgotten easily when the young,  _young_ boy jumped in his arms, excited and glowing, kissing all over his face and begging for quick touches in the day and long ones in the night.

 

He wanted to spoil him to dead, until it made Peter a little brat, he wanted to buy him everything he looked at, to fill his needs and wants, to erase each frown giving and see the white teeth showing from under pink lips, to make him feel pretty and _extravagant_ with expensive perfumes, embellished clothes, peach scented lotions and exotic massages. The man paid everything that the boy wanted and even if he didn't ask for anything he would always get him something especial; the new  _care_ he found, the exigence on himself in protecting Peter and making glad and full was always present in his mind, leaving Tony with an opened mouth and worried heary at his unfamiliar ways and words towards adolescent.

 

All guilts were set aside, because — _What the fuck, right?_

 

Just the mere, sordid image of Peter laying in the hood of his white Camaro got him shuddering at the unrealistic, erotical and _even_ vulgar situation; the boy opening his legs so deliberately and breaking the buttons in their shirts, grasping desperately. The way he moan nicely when Tony went slow the first time, making the metal of the car hot as Peter's back rubbed against it, memories of his own young days arrived everytime, when he gave  _two_ fucks and snorted cocaine, when he slept with the beautiful models with blond hair and drank like a maniac until dawn, the adrenaline he use to feel came back into him when he touched the boy, filling his veins and making him feel young again — _Because,_ look at him now, a pretty boy in the hood of his car, asking for more and smiling wide as they made love infront of his mansion with the Spanish design and enormous fountain.

 

Tony watched almost everyday Peter talking on the phone annoyed and giving false excuses to his aunt, hitching his breath and and closing his eyes, gripping the device on his hand as the man went down on him again, biting his thighs and marking the pale flesh, reminding Tony of how much he enjoyed doing the prohibited.

 

The luxuries, the extravaganza and affluence of money and the short travelling to new places were new to the boy's life, but Tony made sure to everyday introduce him to the unknown and beautiful, to the exorbitant pleasures and long drives to take Peter to the best places in the West Coast. It was all fast and inopportune at first, feeling like a time bomb about to explode and Tony thought that it all was going to be accelerated, with quick fucks in five stars hotels, with the occasional dinner and gift  _or_ just the pride in his selfish persona of knowing that he got to have a young body and mind twisting in his silk bed sheets.

 

 _But,_ it all went to hell - _literally-_ when he saw Peter coming out of the rotten building he lived in, walking proudly and slowly with the electric blue suit that Tony bought him for him to wear so that he could cause an impression in his partners eyes and parade around town, when he saw the perfect combed hair and smelled the delicious scent, the single stupid thought of wanting to show off Peter, to make other people desire him, making them stare for too long, to make have him by his side like a  _goddamn_  trophy and maybe share him away; all those irrational thoughts that somehow wondered in his head, became a joke and a lie, the became an angry passing thought when he saw Peter taking off that tight suit and getting on his knees in the hotel room.

 

Because, since then —Tony never gave an egoistic thought, the single unreal situations in his head, imagining people wanting Peter like he wanted him, people touching Peter when Tony turned around and laugh; his blood boiled hot when he thought about sharing the boy and letting others touch him deliberately like he did  _whenever_ he wanted too, he still walked with Peter by his side, holding him like a trophy.  _Because,_ the kid was a fucking golden trophy, blinking and infatuating. 

 

And, Tony got to say that Peter was his.

 

-

 

He invited Peter to his hidden house by the beach in the loud Palm Springs, telling him about the big rooms, wide pool, hot showers and expensive wine. Tony let Peter drive, clenching his hands and wincing when the boy pressed to harsh in the pedal, he watched the rolled down windows messing around the long curls, he watched too the smile and laughs that Peter gave as Tony cursed in the air when he turned the steering wheel  _too_ fast in a roundabout. Tony made the boy park in the side of the road, heart racing and them almost stopping like a heart attach, he drove the remaining few streets and he thought his heart was going to stop beating fastly in fear or crashing, but it was renewed when Peter unzipped Tony's fly and lowered his head into his lap, licking just how he liked.

 

He  _lived_ for the hot nights that when the salty breeze blew around made his skin shiver as he watched with portentous eyes Peter swimming with all of his skin bare, splashing water happily and yelling at Tony to get in —He  _fucking_ lived for the the boy getting out of the pool, naked glory infront of him, making him sin and gaze for to long as he jumped back in the pool with a childish gasp, the glass of alcohol he always seemed to have with him whenever Peter was around, was ony to control himself from his rough impulses that he wanted to practice on the boy, he always stared from afar, sitting in the beach cot as Peter looked over his shoulder, swimming gracefully and delicately.

 

Tony loved the faint music coming from the opened sliding doors, white curtain flying around softly, he loved  _indeed_ Peter coming out of the pool, dripping wet and smiles, skin raw because of the morning son, moonshine glowing in his skin and arousing reactions from the young body the never seemed to get enough; the splashing stopping abruptly and Tony shifted on his seat, taking big gulps of Ron as Peter walked slowly towards him, giving the man his  _own_ and  _private_ runaway, but instead of showing a  _Chanel Collection,_ he was showing the naked skin that drove Tony mad.

 

"Why don't you want to get in, old man?" 

 

Tony caressed the waist and legs when Peter sat on his lap calmly, "I just showered, baby." 

 

The boy rolled his eyes and pointed at the pool behind him, "You can shower  _there._ "

 

"No, I can't," The older man smirked lazily, licking his lips when the other started grinding against him slowly and hesitantly, almost passing unnoticed.

 

"You could've fuck me there, Tony," Peter whispered and closed his eyes, rubbing his naked against the man's covered one, "By the stairs, like yesterday." 

 

"There's always a tomorrow." 

 

Peter groaned dramatically and kissed him harshly, "What if I don't want to fuck there anymore by tomorrow?"

 

"You will want to, sweetheart," The brown haired man nodded, "Believe me. I know you _._ "

 

"C'mon, Tony," The boy whimpered lowly and held the sides of his face, "Fuck  _me_ by the stairs of the pool. C'mon, daddy."

 

And —Tony swore to his life to never fall in love like a sick bastard, but he's doubting and dragging himself into a hole where he can only see the pale flesh and brown eyes. He promised himself to comply to Peter's orders and wishes, to cherish the boy and makd him content. But, he never contemplated himself willing to kill a person and get on his knes in shattered glass when the boy asked so nicely, that got him throwing his clothes away and diving into the pool, hugging Peter close and taking him to the pool stairs, he kissed him delicately and held him harshly, the same contrast of their skin tones and feelings; but he ignored the second thoughts, held tightly the legs around his waist and fucked quickly up into the boy to forget of any unnecessary, logical and  _legal_ consisuness.

 

 _Indeed,_ he was already dead for the boy.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. T W O

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why did he wanted the prohibited and the sin when he could have the beautiful and elegant?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy:) and thanks for the feedback in the first chapter.
> 
> Let me know of the mistakes!

 

The summer was getting short, the weather was getting cooler and they had to go back to New York, they stayed only for a week in the beach house and they had to go back to the busy streets, to the falling leaves from the trees and get away from the blue ocean and white sand. Just the single thought of going back to  _normal_ and hiding again made Tony's chest clench in preoccupation while watching Peter pack his clothes. He is aware of the difficulty of being able to see eachother everyday as they were doing  _now_ and the realization of that could make him hug the boy harder and touch him non-stop in the remaining days that they have for freedom, palm trees, warm air and  _mimosas_.

 

_"Yes —I'm fine — Yes, I'll be back on Monday — Yes, I'm having so much fun, May."_

 

He once heard Peter talking on the phone just outside in the backyard. Tony was leaning in the frame of the glass door, glass cognac on his hand as he watched Peter walked from side to side by the pool, the orange and purple sky was reflecting on the water and on the  _newly_  tanned flesh that drove Tony so mad; walking there plainly and freely, wearing Tony's white shirt with browns hanging wet on his forehead and bare legs on display — ** _God_** , that was a sight.

 

He would've walk there and make the boy strip and swim for him in the pool, just for the show. Because, one of the new hobbies that Tony found he liked, was getting to  _ ~~admire~~_ see Peter splash water and swim from side to side, naked skin glistening in the dark —But, he didn't do and said anything when he saw the boy's frown and nervous words. The dream was ending and the reality was getting closer each time his aunt called and he couldn't do anything about it but enjoy the time and kiss Peter harder.

 

Tony started waking up earlier in order to see the boy sleep on his chest, he would stare at the soft freckles on his nose and arched eyebrows, he would trace with his fingers his sharp nose, blushy cheeks and thin lips that were always paryed, letting out low snores and quiet sighs. The kid was becoming his abomination  _and_ delight at the same time, making him forget about the man he was and making him become a new one. The selfishness that was in his egocentric selfhood was only left to the people outside  _their_ world until he was left with delicacy and affection running inside him when he looked at the brown eyes shinning for him.

 

They only had a few days left and Peter seemed to be desperate to make them long and wild. Tony still can feel the salt on his tongue when he licked at his neck and chest after an afternoon when they went to the private beach that got the man feeling like a teenager again when they kissed in the sea, with the waves hitting them and making them stumble back. 

 

The careless and bold touches that Peter gives to him and the audacious words that he whispers when they're in between the satin, white sheets could make Tony only stare at the boy from above as he marvels him and his spread legs. The — ** _Love_** ,  _yes,_ the love; the endemic love he started feeling for the boy, crashed him down like a cold wave in winter time. He blamed his soft heart and stupidity for falling for a  _young_ boy that could have anyone in the world, but he chose Tony and his lidicrous cars and houses for some reason.

 

He was so used to the hypocrisy of actions and to the fake, sophisticated words that people spoke to him; He was  _so_ used to the beautiful blonds, red, long dresses, to the shinning _Swarovski_  diamonds in ears and necks, that when he first saw the the pale skin, jeans and flannels with the young features and short hair; Tony almost drank himself to dead that night. 

 

He was a sucker. He was a _goddamn_ fool and a happy pervert since Tony saw the boy that — _Actually_ managed to sneak into _his_ ostentatious party with a few friends beside him— He was so gone when he heard that careless Queens accent and boyish, pubescent moves that screamed: _innocence!_

 

Tony knew that since he talked to Peter in the bar and bought him a drink, he wasn't going to be able to let go of the refreshing sentiment of feeling young again when he was talking to the boy;  _nor_ did he care that Peter wasn't legal and that he stil had to get up early on Mondays to got to school. He completely ignored it, he just followed his own grees and desire. When Tony started thinking too much about it or he when was thinking in backing away, he would call the kid, buy him red, beautiful flowers and a new  _something,_ a new whatever; because, he would buy Peter anything. He would buy the expensive bracelet, or the expensive ring that  Peter liked last week and wait outside the school for him to finish his last class.

 

The man stopped overthinking since the moment that the boy laid down in the back of his blue velvet Camaro and smiled drunkenly.

 

-

 

It was warm under the fan blowing air from above, the white curtains flew deliberately from the opened slidding doors and the only light in the room was the t.v shinning in the dimmed shadows. 

 

_"Tony—"_

 

"Shh—" The man caressed the other's sweaty forehead, "I'm here." 

 

"My legs are hurting," Peter whispered, his movements that once were rapid were stopping gradually and slowly.

 

"Yes." 

 

The low noises of loud moans and quiet groans filled the humid atmosphere. Tony ignored the ache on his abdomen and calves when he stood abruptly from the couch and held Peter tightly against him, kissing his damp neck tenderly and gripping the legs wrapped around his waist as Tony thrusted up with this  _certain_ tenacious movements and sighs that he only gave when the boy was around. 

 

"Oh — _yes—_ I'm gonna —  _Tony,_ " The younger boy gasped against his neck and bite there slightly. He shook on the Tony's arms and hugged his shoulders tightly.

 

Peter orgasmed fast for the second time in the evening; the first time was when Tony made him lie down in the red towel on the floor and spread his legs for him.  _Goddamnit_ _,_ the kid just looked so good, laying there and portraying himself in front of him as he as asked Tony to oil his bare back and thighs — _How_ on earth could he deny such a beauty before himself?

 

 Tony knew the end of every sexual activity —wich they've been doing quite a lot lately, since the pressure of going back and pretending to not know eachother.  _And,_ he doesn't know either how the hell he has keep up with Peter in  _that_ way, how he has keep up with the quick kisses and inexperienced touches that,  _oh_ , he craved very much. 

 

There was this certain titillation, this certain — _eroticism?_ That always appeared magically and effortlessly in his deep depravation that he doesn't longer feel guilty about, he learned to ignore the fact that he's head over heels for a adolescent that has to ask for permission to go out.

 

That attitillation that raises inside himself whenever he catches a sweet glimpse of Peter cleaning the chlorine off himself in the Ameristeam shower, the warm, almost hot water making the transparent glass foggy until Tony could only see the naked silhouette moving slowly and _sensually_ around —Because, Peter knew that he was being watched by the man leaning on the frame of the door and admiring morbidly with a drunk gaze— or,  _that_ eroticism that appears in the pit of his stomach and crotch when he has the young boy touching himself before him in the middle of the _enormous_ bed covered in red satin covers; letting out those soft whimpers and sighs that could make Tony kill a man to hear them for an a eternity.

 

In the moment that he has Peter falling apart on his arms as they fuck like ceaseless people under the moonlight or against the wide window thay shows the Coney Island beach and honey coloured sand; he knows then that he would give his property and money in order to keep the boy. He just didn't  _care_ anymore for the normal or good, for the legal or right.

 

Because, in the moment he realized he would search in infinity and in the sky, he knew he was a sucker for the boy.

 

He laid with Peter close to him against his side the last night that they had on paradise. The vague promises that he whispered to the boy as they were falling sleep, kisses and soft caresses were exchanged and theb were forgotten when they went back to the city.

 

There was this affliction inside his head when they flew back. That certain infirmity inside his chest thay made him nauseous when he drove Peter to his Queens apartment in the middle of the night, the whole time he rested his hans on the boy's thigh, fondling and pinching —Just to assure himself that  _everything_ has being real. The only consolation of their situation was that he would get to see Peter in the weekends and,  _maybe,_ on weekdays; if Peter decided to skip boring chemistry, go to have lunch and drive his old Camaro. Tony set aside the guilty feeling of knowing that he is a distraction to his education and waited outside the school with chocolate covered strawberries resting in the backseat.

 

He _absolutely_  lived for the unmistakable curious glances that teachers and students gave at his way whenever Peter climb into his car and kiss him good morning.

 

- 

 

Tony ignored that sourness on his mouth when Peter didn't wanted to leave his side when he drove all across the city to drop him off in the Queens apartment. The man welcomed the kisses being placed on the side of his face and the lithe hands gripping his shirt. When the boy was opening his pants and kissing down his neck, he was about to step on gas pedal and drive back to his place and make Peter whimper  _just_ how he liked —But, he had to push him away in remorse when May started to call Peter non-stop. 

 

He watched with heavy eyes the back of Peter's body retracting. The silence that followed was melancholic and the streets were empty. Tony e smiled and the warmth on his stomach lighted up when Peter texted him the tempting words and sultry sentences, the ones that Peter was  _too_ shy to say out loud when they were alone. The ones that he only whispered when Tony let him have _a lot_ of his whiskey and ron,  _ **the ones**_ that he moaned when they couldn't take it anymore and jump in the back of his car to have Peter riding him lustfully and desperately —Why, god,  _why_ did he became so infatuated with this young, teenage boy?

 

Why did he wanted the prohibited and the sin when he could have the beautiful and elegant? — He craved the immaturity and inexperienced kisses. He  _wanted_ at every hour the boy with the blue jeans and old flannels. He wanted the boy that looked at him as if Tony was the king of the world and he was the little servant.

 

Tony remembers one of the first times that he touched Peter in a way that it wasn't only over clothes. He remembers the dirty place; his kitchen. When he invited Peter over for dinner and —He just  _couldn't_ keep looking at the boy smiling and touching his forearm discretely, with hints and remarks. Tony pushed the quinoa and salad that his made, sweet Carol made and make the boy lay down in the marmol of the kitchen island. He remembers the thin lips kissing his jaw and hesitating hands undoing the buttons of his shirt, he remembers too the smiles, little licks and surprised gasps when he touched the boy in between his legs. Tony doesn't know how he didn't fainted when he saw the lean muscles and naked skin, the pale stomach that shook when Tony kiss it and bite it. 

 

He  _fucking_ adore Peter's neediness and desperateness, the soft moans and sighs. Tony would never forget when he fucked him quickly, with the doe brown eyes staring up at him with adoration and calmness and his lips being slightly apart, letting out breathless gasps and sweet sounds. Tony still dreams about Peter's hands holding the side of his face and legs wrapped tightly around his waist; he dreams,  _oh yes_ _,_ he dreams about the shy, rapid mumbles that just said, ' _Faster_ ' and ' _MoreMoreMore_ '. Those silent mumbles that turned into yells when Tony held him close and did what he was being asked.

 

The man didn't know how much their  _affair_ was gonna last or how much would it take to be over and he certainly didn't wanted to know. He didn't want to imagine a life without the boy, not when he suffered when he was left without with him for an afternoon. He didn't  _even_ wanted to think what would it be when Peter grows tired and found another younger soul —  _So,_ he settled for the white dope and alcohol, for the short and long hours that he could spend with Peter by his side. He was positive to leave everything aside in order to enjoy him and contemplate him for the meanwhile.

 

 _So,_ when Peter called him at fucking  _11:46 P.M_ and whispered how badly he wanted him. Tony dropped every paper on his desk, closed his laptop and drove in a dangerous speed to the boy's apartment.

 

-

 

He waited outside the white door for a minute to calm his shaking hands and rapid breath. His fingers knocked loudly against the old wood and he turned his head when a dog barked from another apartment. Tony didn't answered when the boy's muffled voice asked who was it, he just knocked again and waited. 

 

The door opened abruptly, "Did you ordered Chinese food, young man?" 

 

Peter smiled and stepped aside, "I knew it was you, _old man_." 

 

"Brought you a present," Tony raised his eyebrows and the hand that was holding the brown paper back that was already leaking oil, "Your favorite. Chinese."

 

" _No,_ " The boy rolled his eyes and closed the door, he took the bag from Tony's hands and looked inside, "My favorite is Thai food," He smiled and kissed Tony's cheek, "But, I like Chinese too." 

 

"My apologies." 

 

"You're can be forgiven. Only if you—," Peter dropped the food in the table and hugged his neck, "Only if you kiss me and massage my feet." 

 

"Your stinky feet?" Tony smiled and shook his head, "No thanks."

 

"You have lick them, Tony," The younger boy giggled and lick the other's parted lips, "So, you can massage them." 

 

Tony raised a finger and sighed, "Now that — _That_ was only once, you practically forced me and I wasn't on my right mind— So," He shrugged.

 

"You weren't even that drunk," Peter rolled his eyes, "Is your kink. Admit it. You _absolutely_ love my feet." 

 

"From afar, yes, I do." 

 

The boy smiled up at him again and closed the space between them slowly. Tony brought his hands to the small of his back and run his hands under the soft fabric to feel his waem skin. He licked inside the other's mouth, tasting the fruity flavor that Peter always had. He pulled away when Peter's hand grazed his crotch, "You aunt —When is she coming home?" 

 

"Late," The younger boy nodded pecked his chin with wet lips, "Don't worry. She's coming home late."

 

Tony nodded. 

 

He let himself being directed towards Peter's room. The boy walked dumbly and stupidly as he tried to kiss Tony as they entered the room. Tony turned on the light and blinked slightly at the brightness, he stared around at the posters on the wall, clothes on the ground and books on the desk, he watched the twin bed and closed curtains and then —God bless him, he shuddered when he noticed what Peter was wearing. He was wearing the blue, worned out sweater that had the school logo, the one that he always wears on Mondays and Fridays. The one that smells like boyish deorant and soap. Tony shouldn't feel so  _damn_ happy and aroused at a simple item, but just thinking about fucking Peter with the sweater rolling on his stomach made him grip his hips harder. Because, he was a sick man when he felt ok about the stupid sweater making the situation seemed a lot more — _Worst?_

 

"Turn off the lights," Peter whispered against his lips.

 

"Why?" He frowned.

 

"Please?" The boy smiled, "I don't want noisy neighbors telling May that I slept late." 

 

"God, you have school tomorrow," Tony grimaced and shook his head, "I'm going to hell." 

 

Peter shook his head while kneeling in the bed and holding Tony by his shoulders, "Not until you do everything that you said  _you_ would do to  _me._ "

 

"I came here for that, didn't I?" The older shrugged. He pulled away and took off his shirt and started to unbutton his pants, but stopped when he saw Peter taking his sweater off, he held the fabric in between his fingers and kissed him, "Wait —Keep it on, baby."

 

Peter frowned, "Why?" 

 

"Just do it, baby," He nodded, pulling down the sweater again and caressing his prominent hipbones. 

 

"Tell me why," The brown eyed boy pulled away to start kissing the side of his jaw, " _Please?_ "

 

Tony sighed and clenched his eyes, "You look younger, sweetheart," He coughed slightly, "You look so  _good,_ sweetheart." 

 

Peter grinned, tapping his eyes. When the man opened his eyes, he found the soft brown and easy smile, "You pervert." 

 

" _Shh,_ " He hushed him and kissed him again, licking eagerly, "Lay down, baby." 

 

Tony took ofd his pants rapidly and kicked his shoes aside. The bed's springs clenched together when he landed softly ontop of the other. He watched Peter take lift his hips to take off his loose boxers and throw them behind him. They kissed wetly and filthily, making low noises that seemed loud in the small space. Tony stroked himself when he saw Peter open his legs for him and searched under his pillow to give him the hidden lube. 

 

He was in the middle of fingering Peter and listening to the soft sounds coming out of his mouth and gazing at the slim hips moving back and forth with his hand movements. Tony looked up and found the boy looking at him already with halfclosed eyes and opened lips. The whispered interrupted the comfortable silence.

 

"Do you want to fuck me?"

 

Tony hummed.

 

"Do you want to fuck me?" Peter repeated louder and smiled lazily, "Are you gonna fuck me?  _Huh, daddy?_ "

 

And —Fuck  _that._ Tony groaned and kissed him harshly, tasting blood and spit. He grinned when Peter gasped as he entered him slowly and ignored the throb on his lip when the boy bit it, "Spread your legs, sweetheart." 

 

Peter whimpered and threw his head back when Tony pushed his hips forward hastily. He gripped Tony's hands on his hips and moaned in between words, "Go, go.  _Tony, oh —_ Don't wait— just — _Ah!—_ Yes, harder." 

 

Tony pushed the curls out of his sweaty forehead and kissed it a few times when he accelerated his thrusts. He looked down and watched himself entering Peter, he watched too his hard dick laying on his covered stomach and Tony lifted the sweater on his chest and started stroking him, "Look at me," He let out breathlessly, "Baby —Look at me." 

 

Peter opened his eyes, they fluttered slowly, staring up at the man, his body was moving with the bed and the pillow was no longer under his head, "Faster, Tony."

 

The brown eyed man nodded and licked his neck.

 

"Faster. C'mon, daddy," Peter whispered, " _Fuck your little boy._ "

 

And —Tony bit his shoulders, dry fabric brushing his tongue and lips when he came. He now realized the condoms being forgotten on his wallet, but he decided to ignore the consequences and kiss the swollen lips before him. His mind was foggy when he watched Peter looked at him the whole time as he stroked himself up and down and came fastly, whimpering lowly and turning his head away. Tony watched his body shaking and recovering with large exhales as he kissed his cheek and laid down beside him, skin against skin as they squeezed together in the bed.

 

"You ok?" The man mumbled when the boy sat down.

 

"I'm fucking hot," Peter answered and took off his sweater and threw it in the basket that was in the corner. He laid down beside Tony and rested his head on his chest, hugging his middle loosely.

 

"You're ok now?" Tony brushed his fingertips up and down on the boy's damp back.

 

He nodded, "Hold me?"

 

The only sound was the fan in the ceiling and he waited for Peter to fall sleep. He dressed quietly and covered the boy's body with the sheets. His chest clenched when he left a note under the pillow and wished to stay the night.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> :) love ya


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